


Side Stories

by Ishmael



Series: Failing Better [2]
Category: DCU, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Comfort Sex, Comment Fic, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fail sex, First Dates, Fluff, Holding Hands, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Ratings and Warnings vary by chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:04:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3423794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ishmael/pseuds/Ishmael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets of Bart and Jaime after <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1781560">Out of the Blue</a>.</p><p>(AKA now that I've got them together I can write all the porn I want. Not every chapter will be porn, but a lot of them will be.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bart PoV schmoop

**Author's Note:**

> Instead of waiting for the big sequel idea and tying all the little scenes I have lying around into that, I'm going to post the snippets as-is. Maybe I'll get to that sequel and these will be jossed. In the meantime it lets me explore more of this universe in less intensive ways. I also want to have stories with PoVs of other characters. Maybe I'll add them into this fic, maybe they'll get their own. I'll see what happens. I'll arrange the chapters so they're in rough chronological order.
> 
> Prompts welcome. I make no guarantees but I always like new ideas.

Bart used to hate staying still. Now he has a lot of reasons to love it.

Sometimes Jaime reads laying down. Bart's favorite thing is to rest his head on Jaime's stomach, feeling each breath. It's best when Jaime isn't wearing a shirt, so Bart can feel the coarse trail of hair on the back of his neck--and Bart can flip over and blow a raspberry into warm skin and make Jaime squirm. Or kiss right below Jaime's bellybutton and move down, making him squirm in an entirely different way.

Other times they'll go someplace remote and watch the sunset together--tops of skyscrapers, mountains, bridges, piles of defeated bad guys. Jaime's mouth will go slack as he sees the light set Bart's hair afire and Bart will get lost in the way it makes Jaime's skin glow gold. They'll kiss as the last of the light tucks behind the earth, ridiculous and sappy and perfect.

Now when he sees yellow eyes and a black-and-blue face he doesn't think of fear, but familiarity. When an airlock blows and Bart is swept into space, Jaime's suit extending around him isn't a cage, but an embrace keeping him safe. Afterward he puts a hand on the alien entity on Jaime's spine and says "Thank you" and means it. One lingering chip of fear fades away.

Sitting on the couch with Jaime tucked between his arms, the scarab pressing into his chest feels like a metaphor but Bart doesn't care what it means. They're happy here and that's enough.


	2. First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For sunsetmyriad, who wanted to see Bart and Jaime affectionate in public.  
> Levels of fluff may cause sugar overdose.

By now they must've eaten at hundreds of restaurants. (Most of those were Chicken Whizzees but that’s beside the point.) Eating across from Jaime while they're alone together is nothing new, not even remotely.  
  
But it feels new. Bart is looking and Jaime is looking back with his eyes big and brown and soft in a way Bart knows from seeing him with Traci and Kiran and his family. Then Jaime seems to realize it too and jerks his gaze away, self-conscious. Before Bart can be sad about it he looks back, like he remembers it's ok to look.  
  
They can both look, now.  
  
This isn't really new, not _new_ -new, it's old-new. They're friends eating out at a place that's fancier than either of them really like because they're both trying too hard.  
  
Bart snatches a half-bitten french fry off Jaime's plate, (old habit, save the half-bitten part—he never dared do that). Jaime laughs and grabs at his hand and Bart lets him win, lets their skin slide together rough and warm.  
  
Jaime has amazing hands, blunt calloused fingers and uneven nails that still have dirt under them despite the shower Bart knows Jaime took. Hands that have worked. Hands that don't make Bart feel awkward even though this cushy past life has long since softened his own calluses.  
  
Then Jaime's hands shifts from wrist to laying overtop Bart's knuckles, and Bart turns his hand so his palms are facing up. Their palms brush so lightly the contact almost tickles. Jaime glances around the room, meets Bart's gaze, and lets the weight of muscle and bone sink down.  
  
It's not the first time they've held hands but it's the first time Bart doesn't feel like a thief. His thumb traces the raised outline of one of Jaime's veins. "Your hand is cold."  
  
"It's hard not to be nervous. I mean, I know we're in Austin and they're way more relaxed around here but—"  
  
"But we're superheroes. Nothing can stop us." It's easy to believe that with Jaime—not just because an evil version of him had conquered the Earth, but because they're a team.  
  
Jaime's eyes dart around even more nervously than before. He hisses, "Secret identities, Bart!"  
  
"Nobody's listening. And besides, nobody would recognize you without a hoodie."  
  
That earns him a kick under the table. Bart hooks his foot around the offending leg before it can retreat and runs up Jaime's calves a little. "Relax. Don't bug out."  
  
"Ha, ha." Jaime grumbles but his palm is a little warmer now. With one last survey of their surroundings he shifts his grip so their fingers are interlaced. "Sorry."  
  
"Don't be. You're here." His heart races and the smile hurries to follow. "We're both here."  
  
Jaime puts his other hand on the table, palm up. "Yeah, we are."  
  
Bart puts his hand over Jaime's. These hands are restless, brushing fingers and exploring the landscape of tendons, cartilage, and bone under skin.  
  
"Sorry it took me so long. I know you said—"  
  
Bart squeezes just enough to hurt. "No guilt on our first date."  
  
"Right." Jaime ducks his head, arm twitching with intent to rub the back of his neck but stopping because Bart holds firm. "It's just hard to get over that we could've had more time."  
  
"We have plenty of time. A whole future without alien invaders taking over."  
  
Jaime squeezes back. "Which you made possible."  
  
"Couldn't have done it without you, Blue."  
  
Jaime's brow furrows. Bart thinks he's going to pull away, but instead he leans over the table, rising so he can brush his lips over Bart's cheek. It's too light and too brief to be a kiss but it carries the weight of one.  
  
"Dessert?" Bart prompts, hoping for an excuse to make the night last. He isn't hungry but he'll work up the munchies by the time it gets to the table.  
  
"When we get home," Jaime promises in a tone that means he isn't talking about the half-empty carton of cookie dough ice cream in his freezer.


	3. oral sex, nipple play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bart and Jaime having sex early in their relationship

Bart may be one of the fastest people on the planet but the speed Jaime can take off a hoodie and tshirt is impressive. The scarab makes for a lot of Jaime shirtlessness but it never, ever gets old.

Bart loves Jaime's bellybutton that looks like it tried to be an outie but didn't make it. He loves Jaime's smooth belly and the thin trail of hair up the middle, the flat ovals of his nipples and the jut of his collarbones and the triangle of moles on his shoulder and the stupid, stupid chinbeard that Bart always wants to bite. He loves how Jaime's eyes are all one color of brown that look layers deep when the light hits them right. And he loves the smile most. It's the smile that did him in first, the way it slowly spreads over Jaime's face like a sunrise, sweet and bright.

It's the smile that had made Bart's original plans vanish, the hard part of himself that had been ready to accept necessary casualties shriveled up in favor of determination to save Jaime.

The smile still makes his chest tight—that there had been a future without it, a future where somebody this good had been manipulated into something horrific. Sometimes it's hard to believe that this is real, that he can kiss that smile anytime he wants, that he can touch for no other reason than wanting to.

Jaime's scars are small—a cut hidden on the underside of his lip where he'd fallen on the playground, a few divots on his right knee and left elbow from falling off his skateboard. And the scarab, of course. It mars the smooth lines of his back, the place it pinches and pierces the skin looks painful.

Bart is lying on Jaime's back while Jaime reads. He smoothes fingers over the edges where skin meets technology, careful not to touch. "Does it hurt?"

"The scarab? Nah. It kinda did at first, but I got used to it. It looks way worse than it is. It's all superficial."

Bart remembers Jaime sweating and screaming when they'd attempted to remove it, the way his tendons had bulged out from his neck in pain. Superficial. _Right_.

"I used to think it was hideous but I'm used to it by now." Jaime pauses, eyes drifting in that way that means he's talking to the scarab. He closes his book. "You can? Well, I don't know. It might not be a good idea."

"What is it?"

"He says that he could be internal. Which I guess would look less freaky but I dunno if I like the idea of him hanging out with my organs."

Bart takes a breath then leans in and kisses the scarab. He usually avoids touching it but it's part of Jaime too. It's not the terror Bart grew up with. It's what keeps Jaime safe.

His lips tingle and his heart batters his ribcage to a hummingbird beat. He raises to hands and knees to get some space.

Jaime turns over, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Bart?"

He looks down at that familiar face, the wispy beard and thick eyebrows and open expression. His heart thrums. Every sacrifice, all those years of longing, it was all worth it. Having this is worth every moment of pain. Bart grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it off, then throws himself down on Jaime.

"Oof!" comes the muffled protest, but Jaime's annoyance quickly turns to enthusiasm when Bart starts kissing. Cheeks, eyebrows, neck, forehead, it's all fair game.

Jaime rolls them over. "You're heavy."

Bart grins, trailing fingers over Jaime's chest. "I'm a growing boy."

"Don't even start with me ese." Jaime mirrors his explorations. Bart can't help the whine that escapes when Jaime's fingers brush over his nipples, and Jaime looks delighted at the discovery. His puts a finger at the center of Bart's chest and slowly spirals outward until he brushes over it the nub again, watching as it hardens.

"Is it weird I like guy nipples better than girl nipples?"

Bart groans, annoyed that Jaime is wasting time talking when he could be doing better things with his mouth.

"With boobs nipples make me think of babies, and that's not what I want to be thinking about when I'm trying to get somebody off, you know? But on guys they have no purpose but for fun."

Bart squirms. "Have all the fun you want. Rightnowwouldbegood."

Jaime grins, resting his chin on Bart's chest as he sweeps his hands up until his thumbs brush over Bart's areola. "You really like that."

"Nnnnngh," Bart replies, arching his body up and loving the way Jaime's beard scratches his skin and the gentle, tentative pinch Jaime gives the hard nubs of flesh.

Then Jaime moves his head over and gives one a soft flick of his tongue, then another, and another, then he's putting his mouth over it and scraping teeth.

"Yesgoodteethteethgood," Bart gasps. "Moreteethmoreeverything." There's a faint pang of regret this never happened while Jaime had long hair—it would've brushed his chest, made a curtain around Jaime's face.

Jaime sucks a little, then pulls back. "That's still kinda weird. Is it ok if I skip that?"

Bart puts his hand back on Jaime's head and shoves it down. "Just do something."

The teeth are back, his soft laughter under Bart's panting. Jaime rolls the other nipple between thumb and forefinger, then switches sides for mouth and hands. High-pitched noises escape despite Bart's best efforts.

"I really hope Tye isn't home." Jaime kisses the center of Bart's chest, then a couple inches below that. His kisses keep going down and Bart's disappointment that he stopped evaporates.

Jaime gulps, eyes wide and face flushed. "Can I? I mean, I want to—"

"Yes!" Bart puts his hands on Jaime's face and curls forward to kiss the crown of his head before laying back down. "Are you kidding? Yes."

Jaime scoots down the bed, his feet dangling off the edge. His fingers are uncoordinated as he navigates button and zipper, glancing up every couple seconds like he's scared Bart will change his mind. When the zipper is finally down and the bulge of Bart's dick is clear where it distorts the lightning bolts on his boxers, Jaime stares like he's caught between wanting to do everything and not knowing what to do.

"Whatever you're thinking, yes." Bart tries to say it without impatience but it's hard, because Jaime is right there and not doing anything.

"Yeah." Jaime leans forward, hesitates, then presses his mouth to the outline of Bart's dick. His breath seeps through the fabric, hot and uneven.

Bart isn't able to stop himself from being loud this time.

"Bart," Jaime hisses, face flushed so badly it shows on his brown skin.

"Moremoremore," Bart breathes, hating the loss of sensation when it'd felt so good. "More."

Jaime lowers his head again. He opens his mouth and breathes onto Bart's fabric-covered dick. He does it again, and again, moving his lips a little as his hands clutch Bart's hips to try to keep them still.

Another whine escapes Bart's throat but he doesn't care because that finally seems to erase Jaime's hesitation. He fumbles but it feels more like teasing as he gets Bart's dick out of his boxers. He stares at it for far too long.

"Jaime?" Bart props himself up a little on his elbows. Is Jaime still uneasy about being with a guy?

"Sorry." He smiles, sheepish. "I don't want to screw this up." Before Bart can respond he puts one hand around the base and leans forward, licking his tongue over the head. He pulls back, clearly not fond of the taste, but goes in again.

"Hey, you don't have to—" Bart loses his words when Jaime puts his mouth over the head of his cock. It's so warm, and wet, and everything feels ten times more sensitive. He collapses back on the bed. It's too hard to stay upright. If Jaime weren't weighing his legs down he'd be kicking all over the place because he doesn't know what to do with his body when there's so much sensation. "Jaime."

Jaime takes in more, pulls back and goes down even further. His tongue pushes, experimental as it feels the edges of Bart's foreskin. Suddenly his head jerks back. "What did I say about interrupting?"

Bart glares at the ceiling.

"Of course neither of us have transmittable diseases!" Jaime makes a wordless noise of frustration. "I DO NOT NEED ANATOMY LESSONS RIGHT NOW."

Ok, maybe it's a little funny. But Bart really wants to get back to Jaime not arguing with his technological ride-along. Jaime scowls and puts his mouth back around Bart, but takes in too much too fast and has to pull back coughing.

"Are you ok?" Bart sits up frowning.

"Fine," Jaime's voice is hoarse. "Sort of."

"C'mere." Bart holds out his arms and Jaime crawls into them looking like he wants to sink into the floor. "We can try it some other time. It's all crash."

"Crash and burn," Jaime mutters, sighing onto Bart's skin.

Bart kisses the side of his mouth. "Do you want to that badly?"

Jaime moves his head to catch Bart's lips. The kiss is salty and a little bitter and it probably shouldn't be so hot to taste himself but it is. Bart coaxes Jaime's mouth open, their tongues brushing and bodies relaxing into the familiar back and forth. Since Jaime's distracted Bart uses the opportunity to open his fly and put them in equal states of indecency. Jaime groans into the kiss, reaching down to take hold of himself. Bart tries to keep pace with Jaime but it's hard between the kissing and the sounds and smell of Jaime. He can't help but go faster as lips trail down his neck, and he comes onto their stomachs. Jaime follows when Bart nips his jaw at the edge of his beard. He slumps down on top of Bart, too tired to care about the mess. His hands run over whatever parts of Bart he can reach, like he wants to check Bart is really there.

"Next time, we'll both try." Bart is already looking forward to it. Everything new with Jaime feels like stolen time, a gift he'd never thought he'd get.

Jaime looks up, embarrassed in a good way now. "Ok."

"Practice makes perfect!" He pulls Jaime in to practice kissing some more.


	4. comfort sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Tye leaves unexpectedly, Bart comforts Jaime. Later in their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I elected to leave out the details of Tye's departure because that's plot stuff better used in a larger fic.

Bart pulls Jaime into his lap, encircling Jaime in his arms. Despite their heights it's usually the other way around—Bart likes being held and Jaime hates feeling small—but right now, this is good. Bart is warm at his back, and Bart's hands splay wide over his stomach. He can feel Bart's breath seeping through his hair. They stay like this awhile, the sensation that he's sinking into Bart weird and comforting all at once.

He opens his mouth to say something, but can't. What words are there for "my best friend just went on some kind of magical mystery journey with my ex-girlfriend and I don't know if I'll ever see him again and he didn't even pack his stuff."

Bart's lips touch his ear—just a touch, not a kiss. But it could be one, with a little more pressure. That would be—yeah, yeah that's a good idea. Jaime tilts his head to the side.

The tip of Bart's tongue flicks out to touch Jaime's earlobe, then he kisses the soft skin just below. His lips trail down the underside of Jaime's jaw, feather-light and exploratory. Bart's hands slip lower, teasing the edge of Jaime's tshirt. Jaime pushes his hips up, encouraging.

Bart trails his hands up Jaime's stomach then down again, up and down, sliding the shirt up bit by bit. Jaime sucks his breath in as skin meets skin, fuck that feels so good every time. Bart nudges him forward and before he can miss the contact Bart's shirt is floating to the floor and he can feel Bart on his back where his shirt has been pushed up. The scarab is still covered, and that feels right. This is a time just for them.

Then Bart puts his teeth on Jaime's neck and heat shoots through Jaime's body. Something is missing, despite the way he loves the prick of teeth and the fingers reaching for his fly he knows it's off somehow. Guilt? Loss? No, not—

"Bart, Fuck!" Bart's hand is cupping Jaime's cock though his jeans and Jaime puts his hands over Bart's, encouraging. "Yeah, that's good."

Jaime can hear Bart licking his lips before he speaks. "It's hot when you curse like that."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I like hearing you say my name. I like seeing you like this. Feeling you—" Bart presses down and Jaime makes a ridiculous noise that's all consonants.

Bart goes for his fly and Jaime can barely keep up with breathing. Once it's undone Jaime arches his body so Bart can pull them down, taking the boxers with it and he does some undignified shifting and kicking until they're off.

As soon as he sits back down Bart's running his hands over Jaime's hips, then thighs. It should feel weird, being half-naked on the couch and spreading his legs, and maybe that's what's bothering him but not enough to stop.

One hand settles on Jaime's stomach as the other curls around his dick. Jaime presses his hand overtop Bart's, nudging it lower so the heel of Bart's hand presses into Jaime's hipbone.

Bart kisses Jaime's neck and starts sliding his hand up and down Jaime's dick, slowly bringing him fully erect. It's good but it's not—it's not it.

"What do you want?"

"I want—" my best friend not to be leaving. "I want to see you."

Bart lets go so Jaime can turn around, and as soon as he does Jaime knows this is what was wrong—it's not the same without seeing the way Bart's green eyes go heavy, the inviting fullness of his bottom lip that always makes him want to bite it. The trails of scars up Bart's sternum and over each rib that simultaneously make Jaime heavy with guilt and buoyed by trust.

Hands grab Jaime's hips and Bart swallows his gasp. Jaime shoves his fingers into Bart's hair and tugs and swallows Bart's gasp right back. On his knees like this he gets to be a taller, and it's nice but hard to concentrate with Bart squeezing his ass. Jaime sits back down and Bart trails hands up Jaime's back under his shirt.

Jaime lifts his hands so Bart can take his shirt off. He wants to be closer, wants skin on skin. Bart seems to sense it, and lifts his hips so he can shuffle out of his jeans. The angles are awkward and Jaime has to reach behind him to help them come off, but once it's done and Jaime puts his weight down so they're holding each other, skin on skin, that nagging feeling is gone.

This is what he wanted. There's no urgency or overwhelming drive to get off, they're just here, close as can be. In a moment like this the thought of Bart being inside him isn't weird or scary, but a continuation of this feeling.

Bart's hands wrap around to form two patches of warmth over his shoulders. Jaime burrows his hands between Bart's back and the couch and pulls them close, so close their heads are side by side, tucked into each other's shoulders.

Jaime smells Bart's familiar soap and sweat, feels Bart's breath on his skin, and rocks his body forward. They're not lined up as good at they could be but it's easy and warm and slow. Bart rocks with him, moves so Jaime's dick is brushing his stomach. It's enough, though it takes longer to build than any other time they've done this. Bart's dick ends up underneath Jaime. It brushes sensitive skin and Jaime thinks about it being inside and his whole body aches.

There's a warmth building in his belly that spreads as they move. It seeps up to his chest, sinks to his toes and fingertips until it feels like the energy flows between him and Bart.

He pulls back enough so they can kiss and his throat feels tight with heat. He rocks his hips a little harder.

Bart says, "Jaime."

He hears _I'm here_.

Bart says, "Jaime."

He hears _I love you_.

Bart says, "Jaime."

He comes with a sigh.

Their movements slow to a stop, hands moving in aimless circular patterns of comfort. Bart's still hard against him. "What about you?"  
Bart shakes his head. "Later."  
Jaime feels tired and boneless and is a little glad he can stay that way right now. Except his knees are starting to complain. "I need to—"

Bart shifts and Jaime moves with him, leaning his side into Bart's chest, head half on pale shoulder,, legs sideways across Bart's lap. Bart yanks the blanket off the back of the couch and throws it around them, covering everywhere but their feet, then puts his long arms around Jaime.

Jaime's already half asleep which makes him feel a little like a jerk, but Bart's hand is threading through his hair. It all feels so warm. "I'll make it up to you in the morning."

"You better," Bart says, all affection.


End file.
